


All war is fratricide (and Azula always lies)

by junebugtwin



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Brother-Sister Relationships, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, POV Azula (Avatar), Pre-Canon, neither of them are having a good time, rip to azula, rip to zuko, this is kinda a sad one boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:27:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24529117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junebugtwin/pseuds/junebugtwin
Summary: she’s not a monster- she does try to warn him at first, as obviously as she could without just saying it plainly-It is no longer safe to be who you were, she tries to say, laughing as she trips him- toughen up Zuko- she sneers at his attempts at fire bending- watching as their father approaches the courtyard with the dread she can no longer afford- toughen up Zuko.Zuko does not toughen up, and she leaves him behind.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 76





	All war is fratricide (and Azula always lies)

**Author's Note:**

> don't mind me, I'm just having extremely sad feelings about Azula and Zuko's messed up relationship over here.

Azula is not the firstborn. She’s not a boy. (these are very simple facts)

Zuko has every opportunity to rise, she thinks, every privilege the greatest nation in the world could provide.

Of course, he doesn’t. He fails, and sputters, and _flinches_ , just when he exactly shouldn’t. He’s always doing things when he exactly shouldn’t. That’s something she learns about him, or rather, something she eventually stops ignoring, when things are no longer as simple as who can run across the sandy beach the fastest, or who can sing the loudest on the boat-ride home.

Eventually they are no longer children- they are supposed to act like the royalty they are, like their father- perfect, perfect, _perfect_. (not a hair out of place)

Zuko never gets this. He never gets a lot of things- though she’s not a _monster_ \- she does try to warn him at first, as obviously as she could without just saying it plainly-

It is no longer safe to be who you were, she tries to say, laughing as she trips him- toughen up Zuko- she sneers at his attempts at fire bending- watching as their father approaches the courtyard with the dread she can no longer afford- _toughen **up** Zuko_.

Zuko does not toughen up, and she leaves him behind.

Azula is not like him. She is flawless- advanced in every way- logical and cold and deadly, she masters mathematics, aces her physical courses, is a natural genius in manipulation. She gets a sub-par grade on fire bending, her father’s hand clenches, and she trains for the next few months until dusk, and then sneaks away to continue when Zuko’s mother is asleep.

One day she trains so hard she passes out, and wakes up just before dawn, with no one having been the wiser.

In the morning she produces a flame that’s blue. No one has ever done so. Not ever.

It should be enough.

But it’s not.

Because of Zuko.

Because Azula is not the firstborn, and she is not a boy. (these are very simple facts)

The more time she spends with her father- the more time she understands, she may be better than Zuko, but she will never be Fire Lord. Not so long as he can still produce a healthy son- not _Zuko_ of course, she decides early on he’ll be declared insane or some such thing, and subjugated to a much lower status.

She somehow doesn’t guess that father will kill him.

Which is odd, because it makes sense when she thinks about it. No loose ends.

She stares out the red curtains that envelope her, eyes locked on her father’s unfeeling face lit by her grandfathers red flame. She thinks of Zuko holding her on her shoulders so she’s tall enough to pretend to be a dragon, back when that was the sort of thing she used to pretend to be- thinks of him burying ‘treasure’ (his mother’s earrings) in the dirt and setting her loose with a shovel and a laugh- of finding lady bugs and sparrowmanders in the garden- of his hands running gently through her hair.

He’s pathetic really. And it makes sense, doesn’t it? It does, she decides, heading towards his room. Too stupid and too slow and not good at anything- he’s nothing like her. Nothing like her.

She curls around his bedroom wall, clutches his bedpost and twirls, laughing lightly, because this is funny isn’t it? Her _father_ is going to _kill_ her _brother_. She won’t have one anymore. Isn’t that _crazy_? It’s hilarious.

 _“Dad’s gonna kill you!”_ She sings, and it doesn’t matter that she’d telling him, it’s not changing anything. It’s not like he’ll be able to do anything about it, even if he did believe her. And of course, he doesn’t. He’s at least realized he cannot just trust everyone blindly anymore, especially her. His lying little sister. The one that will always be better.

He growls at her, insecurity and anxiety barely hidden, his face as easy to read as a simple map. She looks into his gold eyes, takes in his expression, wonders if he sees a stranger when he looks at her, wonders if he remembers her fondly, or if she is just one more set of fangs in a wolves den. _Good_ , she thinks, ignoring the thought of him smiling at her so hard he squints, all dimples and baby fat. (no loose ends)


End file.
